It's suicide,
to show feelings you hide.

With the words slipping off my tongue,
brushing against strings,
too tightly strung,
a bad melody plays,
and it plays for days.

The melody resonates,
in the ears of the listeners,
but after bouncing around the brain,
exit, stage left,
leaving a mess.

And I am left here,
to pick up the pieces,
of what I fear,
is my heart.

So I hold my heart hostage,
inside the recess of my soul,
in a deep, dark hole,
where no one can find it.